G'day! Pull up a chair! Join me at the kitchen table for a chat...let's toss a few thoughts around about the state of this crazy but wonderful world we inhabit. There's lots to discuss! Make yourself comfortable! Would you like a glass of wine?

Tuesday, November 08, 2016

PARTY POOPER I AM....THE BARE FACTS!

Whew!I’m
exhausted!I’ve hung up my silks, rubber
spurs and riding crop. Now I might have to take a Bex and have a good lie
down!

It’s not what you’re thinking!You people!!I’ve not been watching “Fifty Shades Darker”, the “Fifty Shades of Grey”
sequel; nor have I just finished re-reading the trilogy!

I’m referring to the Melbourne Cup Carnival. As
inferred in my previous post, my tradition each year is to watch every meeting
and race throughout The Cup Carnival - from go to whoa - from Saturday to
Saturday.

Not one for group gatherings on Melbourne Cup Day I
hold my own party with me as the guest of honour.

By the
way, I backed 1st and 2nd in The Cup.

I can’t imagine me not having a bit of fun
on Cup Day...and, as it always seems to turn out well for me.Each year I do okay with my Melbourne Cup
wagers. I hope my winning streak
continues.

I’ve never been one for organised group Cup parties.
I’ve never attended one, willingly or
unwillingly.However, over the years
when cooking in restaurants etc., I catered for enough to last me two lifetimes...unwillingly.Again, I’ve said all this before...apologies
for repeating myself.Where did I hide
those antacid tablets?

Furthermore, I’m probably one of the very few who’s
never attended a Tupperware Party or similar where the hostess tries to flog whatever
it is she’s supposed to be flogging to guests who feel obligated to buy.

Only once have I been cornered.It was back in the early 90s. Caught
off-guard, I was trapped with no escape hatch.

Having arrived to a new town, Collinsville, and a
new job as manager-chef of the Mess and accommodation for the single men
employed by Collinsville Coal (a subsidiary of MIM aka Mount Isa Mines), I was roped into going to, of all things a
Lingerie Party.

Shortly after my arrival one of my staff members was
hosting the party at her home on a Sunday afternoon. Believing it to be the
courteous thing to do, she extended an invitation on the premise I was “new in
town; the new kid on the block”.

In a moment of weakness (or caught unexpectedly
without forewarning, with no valid “out”) I thought maybe it wouldn’t kill me
to go along to meet some of the townsfolk – the ladies of the town.

The Sunday afternoon turned up far too quickly!

With little enthusiasm off I went, dragging my feet
(which was difficult to do because I was driving. I was my own personal chauffeur).

My carefully thought-out plan was to make an
appearance; purchase an item or two in undying gratitude for the hostess’
hospitality etc., and then, having extended my thank you, depart politely.

Once my commitment was over and done with I’d return
home to be left to my own devices, peace and quiet.

Everything was going along smoothly according to my
plan when out of the blue a male stripper appeared!A “Magic Mike” he wasn’t; not that I’ve
watched either one of the movies. And I have no intention of doing so.

The hired stripper was a still a wet-behind- the-ears
kid in his early 20s it appeared to me. I was old enough to be his mother; as
were the other women in attendance!

As if by magic, the women transformed into a rabble
of teenage girls, not yet fresh out of high school!

Something that really grates on me is a mob of
screaming females. And there I found myself
- caught in my worst nightmare - in the middle of a mob of screaming females!

They were carrying on like mentally-deranged hens
being stalked by a fox or a snake in a hen yard!

I turn off TV shows such as “Ellen”, “Oprah” (when she
still had a show), “The Talk” etc., when the audiences go crazy like a disorderly
bunch of obsessed banshees. They drive me insane! I rarely
watch them; and when I do they’ve been recorded, which enables me to fast-forward
through all the nonsense, only watching a guest, if I feel he or she is worth watching.

The mass was carrying on like demented lunatics that
Sunday afternoon!

You’d swear the women had
never seen a naked man before...perhaps they hadn’t.Either which way, it was no excuse to carry on
like a horde of giggling, drooling, swooning, screaming school girls!

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse
the near-naked young man plopped himself on my lap!

Wrong move, laddie!

I’m not a prude, but I do have demarcation
lines.I’m the one who places my lines
and limits.They’re not set in concrete,
but they are mine to set and move as I see fit.

When the disrobed, misguided drongo plonked himself
on my lap my reaction and words (use your imagination – in effect, I told him I’d
seen better) were immediate and spontaneous.

With one solitary, but firm movement, I sent the barely-clothed
fellow flying across the room on his scantily-covered butt.Whether he got blisters or splinters in
his nether regions I cared not.

Finally he skidded to a halt close to his discarded
clothes.I’d never seen anyone dress so
quickly.His departure was equally as
rapid. From that moment on, I imagine he changed his occupation.

My one fluid action caused the room to go deathly
quiet.Mouths and eyes had opened in
shock, and remained so.

It was one way to shut up the previously shrieking, excitable
women.

As for me, I left – and that was it as far as those
types of parties were concerned.

Brazilian Rump: Smash 5 garlic cloves; sprinkle with salt; then
make into paste with mortar & pestle; mix in 1tbs x-olive oil. Put
1.5kg-2kg piece of trimmed rump in baking pan; prick all over with skewer;
evenly rub garlic paste on the meat; marinate at room temp 1hr. Preheat oven
200C.Scrape as much of the paste off
meat before placing in oven. Put 3tbs olive oil in roasting pan over med-high
heat; sear rump until browned on both sides. Transfer to oven; cook as desired.
Preheat pan over med-high heat. Alternately thread cherry tomatoes and very
small pickling onions or quartered onions on skewers; brush with oil; season.
Char on both sides; serve with sliced rump.

Rump Pot Roast: Place 2 chopped large garlic cloves and 1.5tbs finely
chopped rosemary leaves in bowl; season.Pour 1/2c x-virgin olive oil into large pan; add 1-1/2c very finely
chopped celery and 1c very finely chopped carrots. Turn heat to med-high; sauté5mins; add 2c finely chopped red
onions; sauté 10mins. Remove from heat. Truss 1.5kg-2kg rump roast with string
to keep shape. Make 4 cross-shaped incisions at even intervals along one side
of rump. Make a hole in each incision with a finger; fill each hole with some
garlic/rosemary mixture. Truss the rump roast tightly with string to keep its
shape. With a sharp knife make 4 cross shaped incisions at even intervals along
one side of the rump roast, beginning about an inch from either end. Stick a
finger into each incision to dig a hole. Fill each hole with a quarter of the
rosemary/garlic mixture. Heat 1/4 cup olive oil in Dutch oven. When oil is hot,
place rump in pot; brown 5 minutes on each side; do the first side on high
heat; then reduce to medium; remove the roast to a plate. Transfer
the sautéed vegetables, 1 can crushed tomatoes, 4 slices lemon peel,
1-1/2c dry red wine, 2c beef stock, and 1-1/2tsp salt to Dutch oven: stir well.
Return rump to Dutch oven. Cover; bake 1-1/2hrs in 200C oven. Turn roast,
uncover; bake further 1/2hr.

Plum Fool: Dice 600g plums; remove the
stones. Place plums in saucepan with 3tbs sugar and 2tbs water. Bring slowly to
the boil; then turn down to a simmer. Cook until plums are soft. Allow to cool; then strain off juice. Whip 250ml
cream; fold in two-thirds of the plums. Pour a little of the plum juice into each
serving glass; top with cream and plum mix; then spoon over remaining fruit. Finish
with a little extra plum juice and crumbled Amaretto biscuits or toasted almond
flakes over top.

I'm right there with you on mobs of rabid, screaming women, especially those old enough to know better. I wouldn't have tossed the youngster across the room, I'm not that strong, but I would have got up and left. Without buying.The one time I attended a lingerie party, it was just that. Pretty undies and sleepwear. My daughter was hosting as a favour to a friend, so I felt obliged to go, but I didn't buy anything.

You just reminded me why I don't watch TV in the afternoon unless somethings special is on.Nearly forgot the Melbourne Cup, just in time turned the TV on - husband came in and said, "I might sit down and watch the Cup". Says I, "That was raced about 3pm" - not a nice reply :)Been to many cup functions years ago, can't be bothered with that sort of thing any more. We age :)

Good for you Lee. I warned my co-workers NEVER to surprise me with a stripper. That seemed to be a big deal for birthday parties after hours in workplace. I would have sent the fellow making skid marks too.

Good for you - I find that kind of thing ridiculous, as well. My sister went to some male strip club for a birthday party with her friends once and told me she kept saying, "Lynn should be here!" I think I hurt her feelings when I was incredulous she would think that.

Interesting that, with the possible exception of J Cosmo Newbery, I seem to be the only male commenter. I shall refrain from saying anything about screaming hysterical females at an Ellen programme (which is probably preferable to screaming hysterical men at a rugby match) but when I read that you had the 1st and 2nd in the Melbourne Cup I did wonder how many bets you had placed.

Hahaha! wish I had seen the occasion you describe, Lee! I just read your comment on Adullamite's post, how you were born at 11 AM on 11th day of 11th month. If it didn't seem corny I'd ask what your lucky number might be.... Talking of plums, with your cookery expertise, may I please ask you which variety would you say is best for cooking? I had some wonderful preserved plums in Japan and the taste was so familiar so I think someone made plums like this when I was a kid. But the taste was so strong, they must have been special cooking plums.

Having earned extra cash as a male stripper myself in the 1970's I feel enormous sympathy for the young man you bucked off so violently. He was only trying to provide a service to a bunch of middle-aged women and no doubt fortify his finances.

Well, Yorkie...I wasn't one of those "middle-aged" women at the time who found pleasure in such childish behavior...both by the other women present, and by the guy. And, the status quo remains to this day now that I'm an antique!

You sure it wasn't you who attended that party? Did your blisters heal up okay? So that's how you got your sore knee!! :)

Hello there LeeLovely to see you visit yesterday - the weather today is not quite the same. Cold wet and windy......certainly not springlike at all You know what they say - there are male strippers and there are male strippers. Some are good on the eye, others revolting! However I wouldn't know 'cause I've never 'been there done that '. Like many of us it's not my sceneBye for now Cathy

Hey Cathy...male strippers whether good on the eye or not are not my scene. I also can't understand why some drool over the calendars put out by the six-pack firemen. I respect what firemen do, but I'm not interested in the calendars.

Today up this ways has been a lot cooler, thank goodness, than the past few days. It's supposed to last for a couple more days...but the heat will return again all too soon, no doubt.